Muse of Nations
by 101stellastella
Summary: A look at the inner struggles of various nations as they attempt to cope with the different traumatic experiences they've been forced to undergo through the millennia. Will cover the American and French Revolutions, the War of 1812, World War 2, Prussia's dissolution, and more.
1. Chapter 1: Revolution: US

Alfred slammed a fist into the wall, unsure of whether he should lash out or cry. It was too much. Every one has a breaking point and Alfred has finally found his. He was sick of it. Sick of England treating him like a doormat. He was sick of being ignored. He was sick of...he was just plain sick at this point. He had felt excited when he helped the founding fathers draft the Declaration of Independence. He was practically bouncing off the walls during the Constitutional Convention...but now that the excitement has worn off in the face of war. Especially now that he was to face his brother for what might be the last time in battle.

Alfred sank to his knees. This wasn't what he wanted...it was just what he had to do. All he wanted, all he really wanted, was his brother back. When he was small, Arthur used to treat like family. He'd cook, badly, for him, take care of him, clothe him, play with him, spend time with him. But as time wore on, Arthur's attention and energies were sent to other colonies. It wasn't until Alfred started developing enough to be a decent trade 'partner' that Arthur started to come back over to visit him.

But something had changed between them. When Arthur used to come back after long periods of being away, he'd always spend a few days with Alfred to play or talk with him. He'd even come back with a treat, usually something that was considered common place in Europe but luxurious in Alfred's more poverty stricken colonies. When Arthur had come back around the time Alfred had started to resemble more of a teen or preteen, he greeted him before handing him a piece of paper that was filled with new laws and taxes. Alfred tried to argue with him, saying that he had no say in these laws and that his people, who already had trouble affording some of those goods, would have told do without.

"I just got that bloody frog and that Spaniard out of the colonies. You think I'm made out of money. You need to pull some of your own weight now," growled Arthur. Alfred frowned. "Well can you at least not force my people to have to play host to your soldiers? You can't expect them to be able to afford to pay for the extra mouths your forcing on them while taxing them do you?" he said. Arthur glared at him. "They are _my_ people Alfred, not yours. You just represent the trade relationship, nothing more. The people are none of your concern," he snapped.

That's when Alfred first realized that they weren't brothers...not any more. His 'brother' didn't even see him as a proper personification. Alfred wondered whether Arthur saw him as person any more. He didn't know what brought on this change. Maybe it was something he said or did, but he couldn't think of anything. Up until that point, he'd been blindly following the orders Arthur brought him. Arthur's words haunted him after that. That, combined with the surge of outrage the colonists felt about the taxes, was enough to make Alfred snap and do something reckless...The Boston Tea Party.

Things had escalated out of control from there. The colonists started taking sides and Alfred could feel himself slowly become stronger, even stronger than before. He even had a small growth spurt, gaining an inch or two in height making him slightly taller than his former brother. It scared him though, that strength. The last time he felt himself change like this was when the colonists had managed to displace a few tribes of Native Americans. The last time he had a growth spurt was when his mother had died.

Alfred didn't want to kill Arthur. He didn't want it to come to that. He just wanted to be treated like an equal. He just wanted his brother back. But if his brother refused to see reason, refused to listen...Alfred would do anything to have his independence. It was the only thing Alfred thought that would make himself finally be seen as something more than a trading deal. He just wished he didn't feel so hollow thinking about it, so hurt and betrayed. He felt led on. He felt Arthur had only pretended to act like a brother in order to profit from him in the end.

"Alfred, Are you ready?" asked George Washington, peaking into Alfred's room. Alfred looked up and gave his newfound father figure a shaky smile. "As ready as I'll ever be," he said, feeling a surge of strength wash through him as his troops started gathering on the field

Oh I am growing tired

Of allowing you to steal Everything I have, you're making me feel

Like I was born to service you But I am growing by the hour

You left us far behind So we all discard our souls And blaze through your skies So afraid to die

'cause I was born to destroy you And I am growing by the hour And I'm getting strong in every way, yeah, yeah

You led me on, you led me on, you ...

Oh, and I'm getting strong in every way Yeah, yeah

-"Hate This & I'll Love You" by MUSE

 **Let me know what you think about this kinda song fic thing I wrote. I'm thinking about writing one for either Germany or England next.**


	2. Chapter 2: Revolution: UK

Arthur held the bottle of rum, a preference leftover from his time as a pirate, in his shaking hands. In just a few minutes, he'll be facing his baby brother on the battlefield. The brother that he cared for and raised. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. He had given that boy everything. He had done everything to try to mold that boy into a proper gentleman, a proper English gentleman. He fought off Spain and that stupid git frog out of the new world for him. All he asked for was for a little extra money and for Alfred to do him a few favors. But no, that imbecile had to go and blow everything, everything he's worked for and done, away. Arthur stared at the bottle of rum, knowing that he would need it if he was to finally put an end to Alfred's little charade. He was a bloody empire, both figuratively and literally. He wasn't going to let one group of colonies, no matter their history, blow it away. Alfred was too valuable to lose.

Maybe that's where I went wrong. The thought entered Arthur's mind and he shook his head, begging it to flit away. No. It wasn't Arthur's fault. Alfred was a colony. He was too inexperienced, too naive in the ways of how the empire functioned. He was only seeing one piece of the puzzle, too stubborn to look at it from Arthur's perspective. Arthur had a whole empire to run. He couldn't bend to the will of thirteen little colonies, especially ones so far away and isolated. "I just needed to regain my grasp on everything. Why couldn't he have seen that? Once I got everything back on track, once I got to where I didn't need to tax him so badly, I could have shown him what I was working for. I could have shown him how much I could have provided him. I could have kept him safe and well fed..." Arthur said to the bottle.

He shook his head. If he was honest...he wouldn't have done that. He would have just gone back to conquering and leaving his brother by himself, wondering when he could expect to see his older brother again. Arthur scowled and threw the bottle, causing it to burst when it hit the hard ground of his tent. "What does Alfred know? What would he have done with representation? He doesn't have a clue as to how a country works. He isn't a country. He's just a group of pathetic colonies. I know what's best for him. I could have given him the whole fucking world. Why can't he see that he's nothing with out me? He's nothing but a group of bloody rebels that crossed the line! He's nothing. " he shouted, grabbing a bottle, gripping it as if it was his last lifeline.

Arthur's eyes widen at what he said but swallowed and let the words harden him. "He's nothing. He's nothing to me. Not anymore. This war means nothing," he muttered. A soldier came into his tent and immediately saluted. "Sir, it's time. Are you prepared for what's going to happen?" he asked. Arthur picked up his bayonet and stared at the bottle in his hands before setting it down on a table. "Yes. Let's get this over with. It's time his foolishness is put to an end. I'll show him what happens when you mess with the British Empire," he said, following the soldier to the battlefield.

Arthur froze when he saw Alfred, clad in blue, with gun in hand and an army standing behind him. He walked onto the field, trying not to tear up and held up the gun. "He means nothing. He is nothing," he whispered, getting into a defensive position. Alfred lifted the gun. "All I want is my freedom. I am no longer a child nor your little brother. From this day on...I'm independent," said Alfred in a hard voice. Arthur swallowed, the words stinging. This means nothing to me. He means nothing to me. He's already made his decision. Arthur growled before rushing at Alfred, bayonet in front of him. He hit Alfred's gun out of his hands, fingers already moving to the trigger. Arthur panted, hating himself for the flash of panic that flew throw Alfred's eyes. Alfred hardened, ready to take the bullet.

"Idiot! Why don't you ever follow anything through?" shouted Arthur, something inside his chest falling in on itself. He struggled to find the strength he needed to pull the trigger and found that he needed it more for what he was going to do next. Arthur dropped his wings. "There's no way I can shoot you idiot." Arthur trembled, falling to the ground in a heap, starting to sob. "Why? Why could you do this to me?" He cried. Alfred gave him a level stare. "You know why...You used to be so great. You used to be my hero," he said. Arthur sobbed harder. What had he done? Why had he blown this away? "I mucked everything up. I'm so sorry," whispered Arthur as soldiers came and quickly disarmed him.

This means nothing to me

'cause you are nothing to me And it means nothing to me That you blew this away

'cause you could've been number one If you only found the time And you could've ruled the whole world If you had the chance

You could've been number one And you could've ruled the whole world And we could've had so much fun But you blew it away

You're still nothing to me And this is nothing to me And you don't know what you've done But I'll give you a clue

You could've been number one If you only had the chance And you could've ruled the whole world If you had the time

You could've been number one And you could've ruled the whole world And we could've had so much fun But you blew it away

You could've been number one And you could've ruled the whole world And we could've had so much fun But you blew it away

-"Uno" by MUSE

 **Hope you guys liked this. This is the first time** **that I've done something in this style so please let me know if you like my interpretation of a song fic. Also, you guys should definitely check out this band.**


	3. Chapter 3: War of 1812-Canada

**Trigger warning: There is a brief allusion to suicide in the very last paragraph.**

Arthur has lost it. He had finally lost it...Or Britain has lost it. Matthew had trouble calling him by his human name nowadays. The British Empire was struggling, in another fight with France. Matthew was torn apart between who to support, the person who discovered him or the person who took him in. Luckily, Matthew would not have to face Francis in war. At least in this one. Less luckily, it was his brother, his twin brother, he would have to face. Matthew was confused about the whole thing. Arthur had trapped some of his brother's merchant ships and was now rallying the Native Americans of Alfred's land into a frenzy, claiming he needed help defending the northern territories, namely Matthew.

Normally, when his family fought, Matthew would prefer to sit things out and only get involved when he thought things were spiraling out of control, but that was when they fought as humans. Now that this was a conflict fueled by their people and their bosses, Matthew had no choice. Arthur was bound and determined that Matthew do his duty as part of the Commonwealth and help him defend the empire. This was starting to affect Matthew. The anger of the empire, of his boss, the duty his people felt to fighting, was starting to twist his thoughts around. He couldn't help but think horrible things about Alfred and Francis. Because Matthew wasn't being asked to assist with the conflict against Francis, all of his rage and animosity was directed toward his twin. Matthew was starting to have trouble fending things off as he was asked to go to his brother's capitol.

 _That sick bastard is finally going to get what he deserves. He thinks he can just leave us, just stab us in the back for his own independence, well think again. We'll bring him back, screaming, kicking, and bleeding if we have to._ Matthew's eyes widen. No. This was his brother. How can he think such horrible things? He knew how hurt Alfred during the war. He could feel it through their bond. _Please Matthew. He's just having a fit. He always was the attention whore. Use this opportunity to prove to Arthur, prove to Francis, that you shouldn't be underestimated. That it isn't Alfred who deserves their attention. Think of all the times Alfred has said or done something insensitive to you. You can finally put a stop to that._

Matthew could feel tears welling up as he rode behind Arthur, Alfred's White House, something he had happily talked Matthew's ear off, starting to peak over the horizon. Arthur turned to Matthew, a look of sympathy flashing though his eyes before being replaced with resolve. "Don't worry lad. It won't kill him. A nation has to do that directly. It'll only hurt him a little. Enough to help him realize that he needs to get over himself," said Arthur. Matthew didn't know who he was trying to convince. Matthew or himself. Canada nodded tentatively, nearing the white house. "You take the west side and I'll take the east. Don't worry Matthew. We'll have him return to us yet," said Arthur, sounding more ruthless as he spoke.

Matthew rode to his position, jumped off the horse, and quickly starting setting the fires, gun slung over his back. He waited quietly, concentrating on the connection that he and Alfred's connected lands gave them. For a few seconds, there was nothing. Matthew backed up and went to where Arthur was watching the flames rise from a safe distance. They waited. And waited. And waited. The flames got higher and Matthew started getting concerned. What if the flames knocked out Alfred before he could get out. The bond was filled with anxiety and pain, but Matthew wasn't sure who's. _See, he'd rather burn to death than be your brother again. Why do you allow this? Finish him off._ Arthur must have heard the same thing as him because he chose that moment to turn to Matthew. "Go in and look for him. Finish him off if he puts up too much of a fight," he said, face neutral. Matthew nodded and started walking into the burning mansion.

He swallowed, resisting the thoughts of hatred toward Alfred spinning out of control. _He hates you. He ignores you. He's nothing but insensitive to you. Take him out. Finally get the recognition you've been looking for. You can finally find the thing you need to be truly happy._ "Alfred. Alfred it's me. Please come out. Please let me know if you're okay," Matthew managed to choke out. He heard the floor in the next room creak as someone's weight was shifted on it. The door was already half burnt away. Matthew bit his lip, one trembling hand reaching out for the gun of its own accord. He swore and forced it back down with his other hand. Entering the room, he spotted Alfred, nursing a severely burnt arm. Alfred looked up, fear etched onto his face. _Good. He won't forget us now. No one will forget us now. Not after we force the supposedly free country back into the empire._

Alfred jumped up, swaying. His face was blistered and one eye was swollen shut. There was a sack filled with documents and a painting next to him. _He's an idiot for thinking he could salvage anything. Take him out. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him._ Alfred's eyes, er, eye, narrowed and he quickly grabbed a decorative dagger off the shelf behind him. "J-Just surrender Alfred. Please. I can't control it much longer. Please don't force me to fight you. I'm begging you," said Matthew. Alfred shook his head, giving him a hard look filled with feelings of betrayal. "How could you do this? To your own brother?" he said, knife held out in front of him the way Arthur had taught both of them. Alfred's hand was trembling.

"You aren't my brother. You made that clear when you left," said Matthew harshly, his resistance to the thoughts slipping for half a second. Half a second was all it took. _Good. That look. That look made this all worth it. We've finally found what we've been looking for all these years._ Alfred's face was filled with utter hurt and betrayal. The bond shimmered with nothing but the feeling of abandonment. The worse thing was that Matthew couldn't find it in himself to take it back. He had finally found what he was looking for. A way to finally hurt his brother for all the pain he had unknowingly brought him. There was a sound of a blast going off in the west part of the mansion. Alfred screamed, burns suddenly covering the left side of his face.

 _Take him down. This is your chance. You won't get another one like it._ His hand went to his back, bringing the gun forward. Alfred was on his knees, panting and gasping in pain. Matthews hand's shook, the gun trembling along with them. Before he could aim at Alfred, Matthew moved the muzzle of the gun. "I'm so sorry Alfred," he said. Pain split his skull a split second after he pulled the trigger under his own jaw. Matthew felt his the bullet go through him before he fell to the ground, succumbing to darkness. He had finally found it. A way to keep the war from controlling him.

I'm falling down

And fifteen thousand people scream They were all begging for your dream I'm falling down Five thousand houses burning down No-one is gonna save this town

Too late I already found what I was looking for You know it wasn't here No it wasn't here

I was calling your name But you would never hear me sing You wouldn't let me begin So I'm crawling away 'Cause you broke my heart in two, yeahh No, I will not forget you

Too late I already found what I was looking for You know it wasn't you No, it wasn't you Noooooo

Falling away You would never see me through No, I could not forget you Falling down A thousand houses burning down No-one is gonna save this town

Too late I already found what I was looking for You know it wasn't you No, it wasn't you Noooooo

Falling down Now the world is upside down I'm heading straight for the clouds

 **Please let me know what you guys think. Let me know if I should make another chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4: Dissolution of Prussia

THE TIME WAS 1953

Prussia couldn't sleep. Earlier that day, he watched as one of his best friends, driven by the torment, abuse, and fear Gilbert had brought to him in his twisted mindset, sign the document that dissolved him. As of today, February 25th, 1953, Prussia was dissolved. Gilbert was no longer a country and that thought alone was enough to terrify him. What happened now? Was he going to simply disappear? Was he going to Heaven? ...Was he going to Hell? He has done his best to spread his awesomeness to other countries. He was a nice guy.

However, he knew he had done horrible things as a country. Just in the past few years he had allowed himself to be warped by some of the most evil people in the twentieth century. Gilbert has been responsible for millions of deaths. He had tried to kill some of his fellow nations, some of them on a constant basis. He's killed ruthlessly and mercilessly. He has stabbed men with swords without blinking an eye, returning home just in time to get a drink before going to bed. But that was what nations were supposed to do, right? They were supposed to represent their people's interest. It wasn't Gilbert's fault that his people happened to be interested in war. It wasn't his fault that people were constantly doubting his awesomeness.

Gilbert sighed. He knew from what he heard from Ludwig and Feliciano that nations didn't just die. They had the ability to come back if there was some sort of ultimate crisis with their kin. But that was for the ancients. The first major nations to come into existence. What if it didn't apply to him? He had started out as the order of the Teutonic Knights, but that doesn't mean he didn't sometimes have his own doubts in what came after this life. He desperately hoped that there was something. He didn't want to just simply not exist. Ludwig still needed him. He can't fail him like he did Holy Roman Empire. Gilbert swore that he would do anything for his little brother...which is why he was dissolved instead of Ludwig. Francis may have hated what Gilbert and Ludwig had done, especially Ludwig, but as a nation he couldn't completely hold it against Gilbert. That sliver of humanity was enough in order for Gilbert to make Francis change his mind on dissolving Ludwig. Gilbert swallowed. He hoped his little bruder never found out about their deal. If Ludwig did, he'd blame himself for whatever was to happen to Gilbert next.

Gilbert was willing to face his worst fears if it was enough to save Ludwig. It wasn't completely Ludwig's fault. World War I was enough to break him, to make him desperate. That gave Hitler the foothold he needed to step into his bruder's insecurities and warp his mind. Gilbert clenched his fists. Nations weren't able to kill off their rulers, for fear that the country would attempt to rule itself as an immortal dictator, but Gilbert just wished that he or Ludwig were able to have an exception to that rule. If any leader needed to be offed, it was Hitler. The guy was as unawesome as they come. Yes, they may have been able to stop it all...but they were so hopeless, so vulnerable when it happened. Nobody expected what would come next. He could still hear the whispers and the tears of their people at night, just below his pillow. They would never let Gilbert or Ludwig forget what was done.

That brings him back to his worse fear. Nothingness. To be swept into the air as dust, as if he never exist. As if he never did anything meaningful to the world. To be tossed aside like all those who, to this day, have died unnamed and forgotten in the Holocaust. It would be poetic justice and Gilbert, as awesome as he is, was willing to accept it. He deserved it. He knew he did. Gilbert huffed, shifting around under the sheets. He wasn't awesome. He never was. He just tells himself that he is in hopes that he could forget the past. Maybe that was something to look forward too if he did get swept into dust. He would never have to fully answer for all the horrible things he had done.

"Son, I thought I taught you better?" sighed someone in the room. Gilbert jolted. He lived alone. Sitting up, he looked around and jumped when he saw Germania leaning against the wall. Gilbert teared up, torn between running for the hills and squeezing the daylights out of his father. "V-Vati...What are you doing here? A-Are you here to take me away?" he asked. Germany sighed, walking over to his son and patting his head. "Nein. I was sent to tell you that the exception you were looking for was granted. Though it may not be as satisfying as killing that dunkoff," said Germania. Gilbert blinked. "...I'm not going to die?" he asked. Germania sighed. "Not now at least. Though, there'd be less chance of that if you stop goofing off so much. Don't think I didn't see that time you and your friends decided to reenact some of the Mythbuster stunts with you as the dummy.."

Gilbert teared up and hugged his father, relieved. Germania had to smile as he rubbed his child's back."It was decided that you could prevent another world war from happening. You won't have a nation to answer to. You would have all the experience of being a country, but you wouldn't be as easily manipulated. However, you will be significantly weaker due to not having a country to draw strength from. You will be weakly tied to your brother's eastern regions. It has been made obvious by the past few decades that your brother is still not entirely ready to be left on his own yet. As long as you advise him wisely, you will be allowed nation status. But if you fail, you will not be saved from your country's dissolution," he said. Gilbert hugged him. "The awesome me promises he won't screw this up. Thank you Vati," he said. Germania nodded.

Rome glanced over to Germania as he reentered heaven. "How'd it go?" he asked. Germania sighed. "He has matured. I am certain that I made the right decision." Rome tilted his head. "I hope so. I haven't seen this much pain and suffering since we were alive," he said. Germania sighed. "Which is why I allowed him to get dissolved. They needed something to scare them. To warn them of what might happen. I don't want them to end up like us," he said. The two silently looked down at the two germanic brothers, hugging and crying.

Eerie whispers trapped beneath my pillow

Won't let me sleep, your memories I know you're in this room, I'm sure I heard you sigh Floating in between where our worlds collide

It scares the hell out of me And the end is all I can see And it scares the hell out of me And the end is all I can see Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, whoa

I know the moment's near And there's nothing we can do Look through a faithless eye Are you afraid to die?

It scares the hell out of me And the end is all I can see And it scares the hell out of me And the end is all I can see Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, whoa

And it scares the hell out of me And the end is all I can see And it scares the hell out of me And the end is all I can see Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, whoa

 **This story will be put on hiatus until 6/20/16 due to Spring Break.**


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